


Words Left Unsaid

by Desade



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: M/M, Not Avengers: Age of Ultron (Movie) Compliant, Not Captain America: Civil War (Movie) Compliant, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-02
Updated: 2017-03-02
Packaged: 2018-09-27 19:40:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,067
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10043072
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Desade/pseuds/Desade
Summary: Clint agreed to an afternoon sparring session with Natasha.  Little did he know that by the end of the day he'd be responsible for a former Hydra agent...and one of Steve Rogers oldest friends.





	

**Author's Note:**

> [Art](https://meesedraw.tumblr.com/post/157943254523/all-the-same-its-good-to-meet-ya-any-friend) by [Meesedraw](https://meesedraw.tumblr.com/)
> 
> Mature rated strictly for use of profanity.

 

The first time Clint saw Bucky Barnes, he nearly choked to death.

He and Natasha had been sparring in the gym.  They had called a draw before sprawling on the mats, pulling deep breaths and wiping away the accumulated sweat.  Clint had popped a stick of gum into his mouth, briefly holding out the package to Natasha before she waved him away.  She was in the midst of running down her last mission, the story told with her patented more-wry-than-dry sense of humor, and Clint leaned back, listening intently as his pulse calmed.

She’d just gotten to the part where she’d hip-checked an unsuspecting guard over a catwalk railing, and Clint was quietly chortling to himself, imagining the poor goon’s face, when the door on the other side of the gym slid open.

Clint raised his head from the mat to see Cap step into the room.  His jaw was clenched, and he had that familiar, super-serious look on his face. 

 _“Nothing new there, really,”_ Clint thought. 

Cap had been wound extra tight ever since the fall of S.H.I.E.L.D. and the reveal of Hydra.  There was a darkness to his gaze that hadn’t been there before; a burden that he’d been unable, or unwilling, to share.  And beneath that, a simmering anger that was also familiar to Clint.

Natasha glanced back over her shoulder before returning to her story.  She was nearing the best part, and didn’t want to lose momentum.

Clint’s gaze skipped from Steve back to Natasha. 

But when a shadow at Cap’s back solidified and hesitantly entered the room to stand at the super soldier’s side, the archer shoved himself upright. 

The look on Clint’s face immediately silenced Natasha, and she spun to her knees, instinctively reaching for the weapons she’d stowed prior to entering the gym.

“Who the _fuck_ is..?” Clint started before uttering a series of harsh, choking coughs. 

Natasha clapped him on the back, sharply, knocking loose the traitorous gum that had slid halfway down his throat at his exclamation.  Clint spat it free, sucking in a rattling breath as his eyes took measure of the newcomer.

He was tall and solid, with dark hair hanging around his face.  Piercing blue eyes met Clint’s gaze and he could feel the apprehension coming off of the other men in waves.

“Who _is_ that?” Clint asked, his voice pitched low, just loud enough to carry to Natasha’s ears.

“Do you seriously not know?” Natasha returned, her stance as tense as her tone.

“If I _knew_ , would I be asking?” Clint shot back.

“He’s a part of history,” Natasha murmured.  “A ghost; and one I never thought I’d ever have to see again.”

“Ok, you’re really starting to freak me out, now,” Clint said as he clambered to his feet.  “Enough with the riddles, okay?  Just tell me.”

“James Buchanan Barnes,” Natasha answered.  “You know the name, right?”

“Cap’s friend?” Clint sputtered.  “From the 107th?”

Natasha quirked an eyebrow Clint’s way before turning her attention back to the men across the room.  “You know his unit number, but not his face?” the redhead asked dryly.  “Typical.”

“I saw the exhibit, and that…well, he doesn’t look like the pictures.”

“The pictures are from eighty years ago, Clint,” she said.

The archer shrugged, murmuring, “So he should be like…a hundred.  Way too pretty to be _that_ old, though.”  He paused for a beat as her words sank in.  “Wait.  _Again_?  What did you mean by again?  When did you see him before?”

Natasha didn’t answer.  She pushed to her feet, standing next to Clint with a deceptively calm cast to her features.  Across the room Steve leaned in to quietly say something to Bucky, before starting toward the former SHIELD agents.  Bucky hesitated for a moment before trailing along in Cap’s wake, his every move measured and wary.

“How’s my hair?” Clint asked softly, eyes locked on the duo as they drew closer.

“Are you fucking kidding me right now,” Natasha snapped. 

“What?” Clint shot back.  “I’m about to meet a legend.  Don’t wanna look stupid.”

“Right,” she huffed.  “That’s what you’re worried about.  So help me god, Clint, if you hit on him, I’m going to throat punch you.”

“Rude,” Clint murmured.  “I can behave when I need to, Nat. “ 

Steve stopped short a few feet away, his gaze darting between them as Bucky hung back a few paces, studiously avoided eye contact with the two former agents.  The dark haired man was casting nervous glances around the room, obviously taking note of all the entrances and exits.

“Clint.  Natasha,” Steve said with a small nod. 

“Cap,” Clint returned with a slight smile.  “I see you have a plus one.”

“Yeah, about that,” he began, casting a quick glance over his shoulder.  “I’m assuming you know who this is?”

Clint leaned out around the wall that was Captain America, taking a closer look at the man standing just behind him.  His gaze roamed from Bucky’s apprehensive expression down to his boots, and back up again.  Mid-thigh, Clint caught the glimmer of metal and his eyes widened.

“Whoa. Hang on a tick,” he turned to Natasha, who was giving him her patented _‘Don’t you dare say a goddamn thing’_ look, and he swallowed back the questions that were rising in his throat.

“Looks like an old friend to me,” he ground out instead, filing away his suspicions for another time. 

Steve uttered a pained chuckle.  “Yeah, really old,” he stated.  “And he… _we_ need some help.”

“What can we do for you,” Natasha asked in a carefully neutral tone.

“Several things, really,” Steve replied.  “I need you to do some digging for me.  Parse through the Hydra files you dumped on the internet.  I need every mention of Zimnij Soldát you can find, along with any info on Zola’s more organic experiments. “

“Got it,” Natasha said.  “What else?”

“Anything having to do with brainwashing and trigger words would be helpful, too.”

“Brainwashing,” Clint repeated slowly.  “Well, I guess I know what you need from me, then.”

The look Steve turned to the archer would have been perfectly at home on a kicked puppy.  “I’m sorry to have to ask this of you, Clint.  I really am.  But you’re the only one I trust that has had this sort of experience.”

“Don’t worry about it, Cap,” Clint replied.  “Really.  If I can help, then let me help.  Just tell me what you need.”

Relief softened Steve’s expression, and he reached out to briefly clasp Clint’s shoulder.  “Thank you,” he said quietly before continuing.  “First things first, I need a safe place for him to stay…and a friend to stay with him.  Can you do that?”

“Shouldn’t be a problem,” Clint answered with a slight shrug.  “I’ve got a hidey-hole or three still tucked away.”

“Great,” Steve replied.  “The next part may not be as simple, though.”

“The brainwashing part, I’m guessing,” Clint ventured.

“Yeah.  Just…talk to him about it, if he wants.  He’s been pretty tight-lipped, at least to me, but I think that if he had the opportunity to hash it over with someone else that has experienced it, well…he might be a little more forthcoming, you know?”

“Gotcha,” the archer replied softly.  “You’d better introduce us first, and maybe vouch for me a little.  God knows he’s gonna have to trust me before he even thinks about opening up.”

“Right,” Steve said as rubbed his hand over the nape of his neck.  “Trust never came easy for Buck, even before all this.  Just give me a minute to ease him into the idea, okay?”

“We’ll give you some space,” Natasha offered, wrapping her hand around Clint’s wrist and leading him away.

“Do you think this is a good idea?” she asked in a low voice, once they’d moved out of earshot.

“Dunno,” Clint answered.  “Could go either way, I suppose.  But it’s not like I can just say _no_ , Tasha.  I mean, look at them.  They’re obviously desperate.”

“Must be, to ask you to chaperone,” Natasha allowed, with a slight smile.

“Shaddup,” Clint shot back, the corner of his mouth twitching up into his trademark smirk.  “There are worse people Cap coulda picked…like _you_ , for instance.”

Her smile faded, and she held his gaze for a long moment.  “Just…be careful, okay?  I don’t feel good about this.  Any of it.”

“Don’t worry about me.  Just get Cap the intel he needs.  Quicker you get that done, the quicker we can put all this nonsense to bed.”

“Just promise me you won’t do anything dumb, and then I won’t _have_ to worry.”

“Pinky swear,” he grinned, looping his little finger around hers.

“Why doesn’t that make me feel any better,” she murmured

“Because you go full on Mama Hen sometimes?”

“Maybe it’s because I just know you too well.”

“Yeah, that could be it, too,” Clint admitted.  “But no, really.  Get your focus off me and onto the intel, where it belongs.  I’ll be fine.”

“Well, excuse me for worrying about my best friend,” Natasha snapped, her voice lacking any real heat.

“You’re excused,” the archer replied automatically, ignoring the pointed look she levered his way. 

“He’s _dangerous_ , Clint.  Do you get that?”

He gave her a gentle smile before replying, “So are you, Nat.  But that never stopped me.  Never made a difference in our friendship.”

With a deep sigh, the redhead squeezed her pinky around his.  “That’s because your heart is bigger than your goddamn brain.  But this is _different_ ,” she added in a pleading tone, locking eyes with Clint.  “ _He’s_ different…and I want you to promise that you’ll keep that in mind.”  The moment stretched out, Natasha’s green eyes turned up to the archer’s blue. 

Clint had about a million snarky comebacks at the ready, but damned if that small worry-line between his best friend’s eyebrows didn’t still his tongue.  He thought back to all the times they’d faced danger together; all the missions that ended with them tired and aching and dirty…but _alive_.  They’d been a team for longer than he could properly remember, and for as sarcastic as Clint wanted to be, he couldn’t bring himself to worry her further.

“I pinky-swore, so yeah, I promise,” he said quietly.  “No screwing around, and utterly serious; I promise.  Now c’mon.  I think Cap is ready to introduce us.”

Clint dropped Natasha’s pinky and crossed the room to stand before the two super soldiers.  He stayed quiet, waiting for Steve to take the lead. 

After a moment of hushed conversation, the blond turned his way and said, “He’s not too happy about this, but he’s willing to go along with it.”

“Jeez, Cap.  You’re gonna give me a complex, here.”  He turned his attention to Bucky.  “What’sa matter, Terminator?  Too cool to hang out with the likes of me for a little while?”

Bucky’s eye’s narrowed and he tilted his head slightly.  “…what?”

“I mean, hell, I’m sorta interesting, and I’m not gonna bore you with a bunch of technobabble.  I mean, Steve coulda stuck you with _Stark_ , so I’d say you’re getting a pretty good deal overall.”

“What the _hell_ is he talking about?” Bucky asked Steve, his brows knit in confusion.

Steve sighed, briefly pinching the bridge of his nose between thumb and forefinger.  “Bucky, this is Clint.  And I don’t ever really know what the hell he’s talking about.  He runs off at the mouth sometimes.”

“He’s not wrong,” Clint agreed cheerfully, sticking his hand out. “All the same, it’s good to meet ya.  Any friend of Cap’s is a friend of mine.”

Bucky took Clint’s hand, shaking it hesitantly.  “Same,” he replied, eyeing the archer in an uncertain manner.  “So, I guess we’re going to be shacking up for a few days?”

“Yep,” Clint answered.  “Got the perfect place in mind.  And a little R&R will do me a world of good.  You ready to head out?  Or do you need some time to get your stuff around?”

“I travel light,” Bucky said. 

“Great.  Sooner we get gone, the sooner we can grab some pizza.”  Clint paused, a worried expression rising on his face.  “Wait.  You like pizza, right?”

Bucky offered a wan smile before answering with a question of his own.  “Who doesn’t?”

“Yeah, we’re gonna get along just fine,” Clint grinned.


End file.
